"Excuse me sir, which way to the closest inn?" The foreman's brow furrows in concentration as he tries to work through Issac's accent. A few moments later his eyes light up with recognition.

"The Copper Maiden be what you want," he says slowly as he points towards the wall of sea grayed buildings along the shore. ""Twixt those two buildings, turn right and then go thirty famn and it will be on the left," Issac bows graciously, slips the man a silver, then starts heading toward the town.

"BLARTH! Stop telling yourself jokes and get to work unloading this next barge. I'm paying you to work, not remember the act of some good for nothing bard in whatever hellhole you stayed in last night!" The foreman's voice booms with the weight of authority. Reflexively Issac turns and spies the object of his reprimand, a thick set half-orc. Reflexively Issac averts his gaze and gives the nahshkma, a combination of bow and hand gesture. It was a sign of deference he had painfully learned in the hot jungles of the goblin empire. You're not in the Hegemony any more... he chastizes himself.

Quickly righting himself he pushes on toward the Copper Maiden, memories of the Forbidden South swirling about him the same way the dark clouds swirled above. Several rain drenched minutes later finds him standing in front of the Maiden's proprietor signing a wetly splattered guest log.

"That'll be two silver for the night, two and a half gold a'fortnight," the innkeep says over his shoulder as he rummages for a room key. While the old man is distracted, Issac quickly flips through the previous entries. Not that he really expected his quarry to stay in this sort of establishment but...

"I think just the one will suffice. That's funny, I knew a Samantha Cooper from Tradeholm," the thin priest says lightly tapping the log. "I don't suppose this one is a big girl, with long red hair?"

"No sir. Quite thin, and dark hair. Nasty bit of work across the face," he makes a slicing motion across the bridge of his nose. "Shame too. Still," he adds with a knowing wink "wouldn't throw her in the stables for snoring if you know what I mean."

"Pity. Well thank you my good man," Issac smiles politely and drops three silver coins on the counter and then palms his room key. He turns, trunk in hand, and begins toward the stair.

"... I'm telling you Shade the Unicorn is a dive. The owner's second cousin runs about half of the cities prostitutes out of that place."
"Its more like a fifth."
"Well I heard from a spice merchant who heard from...oooof" her sentence is cut short as she rounds a corner and runs headlong into a heavy trunk, and its thin owner.